Making It Good
by Eilwynn
Summary: About five and a half months before canon starts, Kurosaki Ichigo starts high school. Knowing Aizen's first major move is coming, Urahara sends Yoruichi in to infiltrate Ichigo's school in secret and see if he's ready. Her friendship changes a bit more than anyone planned. Eventual bisexuality/both slash and straight. Dating, various pairings. 13 chapters of change before canon.
1. Book One: Getting Started

_Book One, Chapter One: Getting Started_

 _Yoruichi_

The Urahara Shouten could only be seen by those with reiatsu. It sat on a quiet street - well, quiet for Tokyo. Mostly storage spaces and garages and rental malls that hadn't been rented. To the reiatsu-knowledgeable, it would have looked out of place. Abandoned. A tiny traditional shop and home complete with rice paper screens, sandwiched between two larger industrial buildings. A place stepped out of time.

Yoruichi scampered down the street and up to the Shouten, up the steps - but Urahara was already waiting for her.

"Yoruichi!" he cried in delight, banging open the door and lifting her up in the air. "There you are! Shall we get you some milk?" He beamed. To a surface viewer, he would have looked completely unhinged. He wore a boat hat and clogs, carried a cane despite looking like a young man, and had longish blond hair that hadn't been cut and stubble. He always seemed bright and cheerful.

Appearances could be deceptive. Urahara Kisuke was deadly and devastatingly brilliant. He had always been that way - ever since he and Yoruichi had been children, fellow nobles in the Soul Society.

"... Why is Owner holding up that stray cat?" asked an impudent little brat with red hair. A stray Urahara had picked up, or so Yoruichi hazarded according to his letters.

"That cat is his only family," said Tessai with his sunglasses and long dreadlocks solemnly.

Even Urahara's latest little prosthetic human, a girl with black pigtails probably created to play with the boy, looked bewildered.

"... You know, Tessai," said the red-haired brat conversationally. "Owner is kind of sad."

Yoruichi leaped to the ground, transformed from a black cat into a busty naked black woman, and the red-headed little shit screamed. Yoruichi laughed rather unkindly.

"Now, Yoruichi, that was very cruel. Have you gotten more sensitive while you've been away traveling the world?" Urahara scolded. "And put some clothes on."

"You can't tell me what to do. I am a free and independent woman," said Yoruichi imperiously, standing with her hands on her hips in his doorway.

"Alright." Urahara held up his hands, exasperated. "But please come farther inside the building, or I could be -"

"What? Arrested? No one can see me anyway."

"Oh, you'd… be surprised."

"What? There's us and the Vaizard. Who else?" said Yoruichi incredulously. "Isshin doesn't have his powers back yet and the remaining Quincy are neutralized. Has the number of reiatsu-crazy people in this one district of Tokyo grown even _larger_?"

But Urahara looked serious. This wasn't just some philosophical debate about the merits of being arrested for a public display of indecency.

"... That's what I needed to talk to you about," he said. "It's why I asked you to come back."

"How much has the number grown by?" Yoruichi demanded, suddenly more worried.

"Yoruichi -"

 _"How much has the number grown by?"_

"To the point where it's cause for concern?" Urahara sighed. "One."

* * *

The Shouten had been built, Yoruichi suspected, to feel like home to Urahara. It was full of Soul Society esque rice paper screens and tatami matting. He could have designed anything in the world and he'd chosen that.

It said something.

Yoruichi, she liked being in the living world. New things, constant changes of scenery. She'd gotten used to it. For all his intellectual brilliance, she wasn't sure Urahara ever had.

Fucking Aizen.

Speaking of which, when Yoruichi had pulled on a sweater and leggings, pulled her deep purple hair up into a ponytail, they had sat down across from each other on the matting in an empty back room, and she had begun eating crassly, the first thing she demanded rather bluntly was, "How is the evil one involved in this?"

He automatically knew who she was talking about, despite her sarcasm.

"The evil one?" Urahara began innocently. "Why does the evil one have to be involved in -"

"Because if it were a matter of simple reiatsu, Kisuke, you could have handled it yourself," said Yoruichi sarcastically, golden eyes narrowing dangerously, and Urahara fell silent. "So what's going on and what is it you want me to do?"

Urahara winced. "... I believe he's making his first serious move against the boy in just under six months."

"Isshin's boy? The eldest?" said Yoruichi, surprised, and Urahara nodded. "What is he now… fifteen? It would be nothing in Soul Society, but as a human he's closer to a hundred and fifty."

"He's just started high school."

"That's cute," Yoruichi sneered. "Have you met him?"

"No. Isshin and Masaki wanted him to be… normal."

Yoruichi snorted. "Well that's delusional. So you think Aizen is making a move against him? What do you think he'll do?"

"Central 46 is already dead or close to it," said Urahara, troubled. "I think Aizen will send someone. An agent to stir things up."

"Someone who knows what's going on?"

"Worse - someone who doesn't," said Urahara.

"That's… low," Yoruichi realized, somehow still retaining the capacity to be surprised and disgusted. "It suits him. What are you going to do?"

"Leave most of it to me." Urahara waved a hand lazily. "But I need you to check up on the boy. Kurosaki Ichigo. See how ready he is."

"For what?"

"For becoming a Shinigami."

"You think… that's the end game," said Yoruichi slowly. "To make him a Shinigami. Why? Wouldn't that help us? Never mind." She raised her hands suddenly and Urahara paused in surprise. "You've got that look on your face. I trust you and I don't want to know. So you want me to see if a fifteen year old kid is ready to become a Shinigami and face the machinations of one of the most manipulative, powerful men in the known universe."

"Yoruichi -"

"I'm guessing the answer is _no_ , Kisuke," said Yoruichi, pained. "How the hell would he be ready?!"

"I'm not talking about emotionally!" Urahara snapped, leaning forward intently. "I'm not talking about in power level! I'm talking about in reiatsu! Because if he's not ready there, that's the only part I can't fix!"

Yoruichi sighed and sat back. "Okay," she said. "What do you want me to do? Hang outside his window? Couldn't one of your lackeys do tha -?"

 _"They're not lackeys!"_

"... Okay…" Yoruichi raised her hands cautiously. "Okay. I'm not the only one who's changed," she added, looking him up and down. "What… _do_ you want me to do, then?"

She was somewhat more hesitant here. She knew Urahara - or she thought she did.

He smirked. "You know that 'cute' high school we just talked about? The one he's starting at and will be attending for the next five and a half months before anything happens?"

"Yes…"

"I want you to infiltrate it."

"... You want me to pretend to be a human _student_?"

"That's right."

Urahara smiled coldly as Yoruichi laughed long… and hard.

Finally, wiping the tears from her eyes, she said with still-laughing pain, "Oh, God, you're not kidding."

"Do you have a better idea?" he asked, still smiling frigidly.

"So… I'm going to become his bestest buddy at his little high school… and I'm going to somehow figure out whether or not he's ready to best all the forces in the known universe?"

"You're really doing well today."

"That was condescending. And fuck you."

"Sorry." He sighed and put a hand over his face, rubbing it. "I know it's a lot to take on."

"You look tired, Kisuke." Suddenly feeling sorry for him, Yoruichi stood up. "Fine. As long as I get to live here, I'll do your dirty work.

"But you'd better forge the paperwork, and you'd better make it _good_."

* * *

Spring. Birds were singing, flowers were blooming, and Yoruichi was going to fucking high school.

Sighing and tugging at her obnoxiously tight uniform - Urahara had done this on _purpose_ , damn him - she walked down the linoleum, squeaky hall toward the correct classroom on her printed-out sheet. People in fellow uniforms did double-takes and stared at her ass as she passed. She considered slamming one of them into a wall, but decided she would stand out too much.

Unfortunately, she had to actually pass for a human.

She entered the classroom and her eyes zeroed in - it was almost pathetically easy, even had she not been shown a photograph beforehand. There he was. Blatantly a Shiba, chalk full of spewing reiatsu, tall and thin with a serious expression and messy hair colored a brilliant, noticeable shade of orange.

Yeah, Isshin and Masaki. _That_ kid didn't stand out at all. Poor motherfucker. She knew how cruel humans could be toward someone who didn't fit in. In some ways, they were even worse than the dead.

He was sitting next to someone equally noticeable, a big dark-skinned muscular guy with a gold chain around his neck, obviously partly some other race. He was _talking_ to a tall, lithely muscular girl with her dark hair cut short and messy like a boy's. Her ultra-feminine best friend was totally checking him out - trying to be shy and secretive about it, but failing miserably.

Well. The kid could do worse. That chick had an _amazing_ rack.

As Yoruichi passed, she stiffened slightly as she heard a guy with long, messy hair say to his preppy friend, "Wow, check out _that_ fine piece of ass. Caribbean, you think? I could get a taste of the islands, you know?"

"Good luck, man," said Kurosaki Ichigo bluntly, turning to him with a scowl etched into his features, and the nasty kid shut the hell up. Wow. So Kurosaki Ichigo had a reputation.

And he also could see she held herself to a certain standard. She liked him already.

"S-sorry, Kurosaki -" the kid said at last.

"Look, just stop being disgusting," said Kurosaki Ichigo, and he turned back to his friends as the kid nodded so fast his head looked like it was about to bob off. The curvy, feminine girl was now looking at Ichigo in wide-eyed admiration.

Long, messy hair guy and preppy guy now looked ready and prepared to stay far the hell away from Kurosaki Ichigo.

Yoruichi took the desk next to Ichigo's. "Is anyone sitting here?" she asked.

"Uh, no." He looked surprised, then recovered. "Go ahead. Don't worry," he added, nodding. "We got your back. We only _look_ like gigantic douches."

Yoruichi was privately amused. No one had had _her_ back in a long time. "Good to know," she said.

"Speaking of gigantic douches…" said the short-haired girl, as a big guy with bleached hair and piercings walked up to them - like he was tough, though his stance was full of holes.

"You tryin' to fuckin' look like me?" he asked Ichigo, obviously trying to be intimidating.

Ichigo stood and got right up in his face. The already incredibly reiatsu in the room heightened unconsciously. "Do I _seem_ like I want to look like a shaved-ass orangutan?" he demanded, which to his credit was a witty insult.

"You want to say that again, motherfucker -?!" The kid pushed Ichigo, who pushed back, and just as it looked like a fight was about to break out, the teacher ran forward. Ochi, Yoruichi thought the bespectacled woman's name was.

"Hey! Hey, boys! Break it up!" she snapped. "What the hell was that?!"

" _That_ guy came right up and seemed threatening, Sensei," said Yoruichi, pointing at Orangutan Kid. "Instigated the whole thing."

"I'm gonna fucking _end_ you -" Orangutan Kid growled at Yoruichi. Yoruichi frankly would have been surprised if he could have given her a papercut, but Ichigo stepped immediately between them.

"Headmaster's office!" Ochi-sensei barked. " _Now_ , Ooshima! Wow, look at that, probation on your first day, total shocker!"

She waited until Ooshima had left, then turned to Ichigo. "Sorry," she said. "My name's Ochi-sensei. Ooshima's always causing trouble. He had to be held back a year, so I had him last year, too. Lucky me. I just couldn't tell if you -"

"Don't worry. No one ever can," said Ichigo. "Kurosaki Ichigo."

"And you are?" Ochi turned to Yoruichi, who was surprised.

"Shihouin Yoruichi," she said. "Transfer to Tokyo."

Her name obviously didn't carry the same weight here, because Ochi-sensei nodded and looked to the other three.

"Arisawa Tatsuki," said the boyish girl.

"Inoue Orihime," said the curvy, feminine girl.

"Yasutora Sado," said the silent, dark-skinned guy in a big, deep voice.

"Good to meet all of you," said Ochi curiously, and she walked away.

"Damn, Ichigo. While we went to different middle schools, you learned how to take care of yourself," said Tatsuki, grinning, impressed, as Ichigo sat back down.

"Eh. It was nothing." He shrugged neutrally, becoming quiet again and looking down.

"Eh. It was nothing," she mocked him, grinning.

"Shut up," he said, but he was half laughing.

"They've known each other since they were toddlers, Yoruichi-san," said Orihime shyly, smiling. "Went to the same karate class. And Kurosaki-kun apparently met Chad over here in junior high."

"Boys school. He saved me from a gang fight," Chad offered.

"Meanwhile, I met Orihime at my girl's school and now the gang's all here," said Tatsuki.

"Can I hang out with your guys's group?" said Yoruichi, jumping on her chance and grinning.

Tatsuki and Ichigo looked around slowly. "Well, we're not really a group…"

"But it's the first day of school and you could be," said Yoruichi helpfully. Look at her, helping Isshin's kid make friends.

Tatsuki looked at Ichigo, who shrugged. "She's got a point," he said. "Comfort in numbers."

"Alright. We're a group," Tatsuki decided. "And you can join, Yoruichi. But only because you were a total badass standing up to some dick like Ooshima."

How easily impressed they were. That was actually the _least_ badass thing Yoruichi had ever done.

"Then I institute that we all call each other by our given names," Yoruichi instated. "Less confusion." She'd heard Orihime's "Kurosaki-kun" duck, and nuh-uh, none of that.

"I agree," said Ichigo immediately. "No confusion."

"You're just saying that because you suck at putting names to faces," said Tatsuki, grinning.

"I am not!"

"Yeah," said Chad, who seemed amused. "Actually, you are."

"Okay, fine," Ichigo sighed, reddening slightly in embarrassment. "So… Tatsuki, Chad, Yoruichi, and Orihime. I can deal with that. Better than having countless friends anyway."

"Yeah, because that would be horrible," said Tatsuki sarcastically.

Meanwhile, Orihime was repeating softly to herself, "Ichigo… Ichigo…"

Yoruichi gave a secret smile. "Ochi seems cool," she said instead.

"Yeah. For a teacher she is, like, surprisingly not a prick," said Tatsuki, eyebrows lifting.

Clearly, attitudes toward teachers were a little more liberally allowed here.

"Alright, class!" Ochi clapped and called everyone to attention. "Let's get started! My name is Ochi and I am your homeroom and leading teacher. I will take roll, and then announce your first project. Less groaning, please!" she added over the class moans, Ichigo's included.

She finished taking roll and uniform inspection, nailing their seating chart in place, then announced the assignment.

"You are going to be partnering up and instituting 'get to know each other' profiles. You get to know your partner as well as you can and then present on them in exactly four months in front of the class." Yoruichi straightened hopefully. If Urahara had snagged this chance for her… "Yes, the partners will be assigned."

Yoruichi and Ochi both smiled at more groans.

"I will now announce the project partner you will have to get to know."

She got to the middle of the list on her clipboard, and sure enough… "Shihouin Yoruichi and Kurosaki Ichigo!"

She continued on as Yoruichi sighed in satisfaction and sat back. This would be even easier than she'd thought.

They broke to meet their partners at the end of the list, and Yoruichi and Ichigo turned to each other. "Lucky you," said Yoruichi, grinning, as chatter started around them. "You get the hot girl."

Ichigo looked downward. "I… don't see you like that," he muttered.

"What, you don't think I'm hot?" she demanded, pretend offended.

"No! I do! I just… I was trying to be nice," he admitted, flushing. "And not… creepy."

Yoruichi laughed. "It's okay, I get what you were trying to say," she assured him. He really was incredibly young and naive, wasn't he? "So, this should be easy since we've decided to be friends."

She smiled.

"After school at your place, shall we get started?"

Wouldn't Isshin be happy to see her.


	2. Doors Opened, Doors Closed

_Chapter Two: Doors Opened, Doors Closed_

Their group decided their lunch spot that first lunch period in high school. Ichigo, Chad, Orihime, Tatsuki, and Yoruichi chose a lovely, grassy spot underneath a tree near the baseball diamond. They all sat in a circle and took out the bento lunches provided for them by the school.

"So. Orihime. Tell us about yourself," said Yoruichi unexpectedly, and Orihime's eyes widened.

"Oh. M-me?" she said uncertainly.

"Yeah. Family. What's it like?" Yoruichi asked bluntly.

"Aren't you supposed to be interviewing me?" Ichigo muttered wryly.

"I'm being friendly. Shut up," Yoruichi muttered back.

"Well… I was raised by my older brother. He died a couple of years ago. That's why I wear these pins in my hair. See?" She pointed at some glittering star pins in her long caramel colored hair. "They were a gift from him, so they're what I use to remember him by." She smiled softly.

Ichigo frowned. "What happened?" he asked. "How did he die?"

"Sora? Oh…" Orihime looked down. "Car accident," she said softly. "He was hit by a car."

Ichigo's eyes widened and a little bit of color drained from his face. "I thought you looked familiar. You're the girl from that day," he realized.

"I wasn't sure if you'd remember," said Orihime, smiling sadly. "Your hair… it's distinctive. That's how I knew it was you.

"My brother died at Ichigo's father's at-home hospital. It was right around the corner from my brother's accident. They were trying to transfer him to Karakura General, but he died. Ichigo answered the door and got me help, and he waited all day with me to see if my brother would make it. Later, when I was crying and begging Onii-chan not to leave… Ichigo comforted me." Orihime smiled.

"Oh, it was… You're welcome," said Ichigo, serious. Yoruichi could tell he'd started to say 'it was nothing' but he'd changed his mind. Smart kid. That also explained Inoue Orihime's immediate crush.

"Wow. I didn't know Ichigo could be so sensitive," said Tatsuki in surprise. Then she smiled. "Well. I guess I did. I have known him for a really long time. We both got into karate when we were four."

"I met Tatsuki in middle school because she saved me from bullies!" said Orihime brightly, and Ichigo's face darkened. So did Chad's.

"Yeah," said Tatsuki fondly. "The poor girl had it bad. I jumped in while they were picking on her, black belt in karate and all, and I've been protecting her ever since." Both girls seemed oblivious to the sudden anger inside both boys. "What about you two?" She turned to Chad and Ichigo, who paused in surprise. "What's your story?"

"Ichigo saved me in a gang fight," said Chad.

"Only because he saved me from one first," said Ichigo. "We ended up starting to back each other up in fights, fighting together. We both had it hard - he's half Mexican and I don't look traditional Japanese - but we were both really good fighters. We're also both better at fighting for other people than for ourselves, so we could help each other just by being there."

"Eventually we just decided to back each other up in fights always," said Chad quietly, shrugging. "Ichigo even gave me my nickname."

"It was a quick jump from there to friends," said Ichigo. "Now we have a… 'reputation,' I guess." He put air quotes around the words. "Like that Ooshima dick thought we did. At least one of our teachers doesn't think that way. Anyway, to be honest, I don't really give a fuck. I don't start fights without provocation, so people can think whatever they'd like."

"Speaking of fights, I'm starting karate club," Tatsuki announced.

"Handicrafts club and art club," said Orihime, putting up her hand and beaming.

"I have a band. Kind of takes up all my free time," Chad admitted.

"What do you play?" Yoruichi asked, interested.

"Bass," said Chad, nodding.

"He looks the part. Has a tattoo and everything," said Ichigo, amused. "Secretly, though, he's actually super into cute, fluffy animals. Volunteers at a shelter."

"Well, yeah," said Chad, as if this should be obvious. "Cute, fluffy animals are amazing."

"Aww, I get that. I have extra hobbies, too. I love comedy shows," said Orihime, smiling.

"She's also a daydreamer and a weirdass cook," Tatsuki announced. "I'm the tough girl because she's a clumsy space cadet."

"Hey! That's not very nice!" said Orihime, frowning. "What about you, Ichigo and Yoruichi?" she added eagerly, turning to them.

"Eh. I don't really do the whole after-school thing," said Ichigo, scowling down at his lunch.

"Oh…" Orihime faded slightly, self conscious. Ichigo didn't seem to notice, the oblivious dipshit.

"I'm a transfer from another city! And my hobby is to find him hobbies!" said Yoruichi, grabbing Ichigo by the shoulders and rubbing his head in a half-headlock, grinning. "He's my project partner, so he's my new official project!"

"Great," Ichigo muttered. "Let go of me!" He pulled himself out of the headlock with surprising ease, looking rather ruffled and offended.

Tatsuki laughed. "Helping other people," Orihime smiled at Yoruichi. "Taking over their lives. I like it."

"That's me. Ever helpful," said Yoruichi wryly, munching away at her food. It actually wasn't so bad, and high school was more interesting than she'd thought it would be.

* * *

Yoruichi made the walk home with Ichigo toward his house to start her more intense research into his life.

"When do I get to research you?" Ichigo complained.

"I'll cut you a deal. After I make my first major headway on you, you can make your first major headway on me," said Yoruichi. "We already have all the same friends and know how we all got together, a little bit about each of them, so that doesn't count. Why don't we start with homes and families?"

"Okay," said Ichigo slowly. "Yeah, that might work. I'll warn you ahead of time, though: my family's weird."

Ichigo's house was a compact two-story building on a quiet suburban street. A sign reading "Kurosaki Clinic" hung above the lower story.

"That's your father's hospital?" said Yoruichi, interested.

"Yeah. He's a doctor and mortician," said Ichigo. "We live behind and above the hospital."

"Do you ever help out there?"

"No," said Ichigo. "Not really. My sisters do, but my Dad doesn't like me helping. I think it's because I'm a dude."

"Have you ever asked him if you can help?" said Yoruichi, frowning.

"No," Ichigo admitted. "I just… I don't know. I'm great at beating people up. I don't know how good I'd be at fixing them."

"Do you look down on people who do?"

"No. Actually, it's a cool thing to do. I'm probably going to have to eventually follow in my father's footsteps anyway," said Ichigo. "Eldest son and all."

Yoruichi was frowning. So he had no distinct hobbies, he hadn't even joined any fight clubs, he seemed oblivious to sex and romance, he had weird assumptions about gender, and he didn't even help his father in the business he claimed unenthusiastically to be taking over someday.

But his reiatsu was strong. Incredibly so. That wasn't the problem.

… Let's see what his family dynamic was like, Yoruichi decided, troubled. She'd said family first. So she would focus first on his father's business and anything else family-wise that cropped up.

Assuming she decided to help him, that was.

They went around the building and entered through the back door. "I'm home," Ichigo called, sliding off his shoes and entering. Yoruichi followed him into the house, slipping off her own shoes. The house was open and airy, with white archways and lots of polished, light-colored wood. The whole kitchen and living room area was one massive room with no doors. One of the first things Yoruichi noticed was a massive memorial shrine to Masaki on one wall.

So Urahara was right. His mother had passed.

"SON OF MINE! HOW WAS YOUR FIRST DAY IN -?!"

Isshin had bounded forward, in a white doctor's coat, but he saw Yoruichi and stopped, his eyes widening.

"Uh, Dad, this is Yoruichi," said Ichigo. "She's a transfer. We've been assigned this dumb partner project for homeroom where we have to get to know each other really well and… well… she's my partner. So she's here to meet my family." He shrugged.

Two little girls stepped forward. "Hello. It's nice to meet you," said a girl with a bob of cinnamon brown hair, smiling sweetly.

"Yo. Nice to see my brother finally making headway with some chicks," said a girl with short black hair and sharp, pale features sarcastically, waving a two-fingered salute.

"These are my younger twin sisters, Karin and Yuzu. They're both in their last year of elementary school." They had strong reiatsu as well, though not as strong as their brother's. "The black-haired one is Karin and the brown-haired one is Yuzu."

"Hmm… Karin is right…" Isshin had recovered and was rubbing his black-stubbled, square-jawed chin, mock serious. He hadn't changed, still a massive, barrel-chested man with a deep, booming voice and too much energy. "YOU ARE FINALLY MAKING IT WITH WOMEN, MY SON! YOU CANNOT HIDE IT FROM ME!"

Isshin went for a massive bear-hug and Ichigo play-punched him to the ground, looking irritated.

"Nice right hook!" said Isshin, holding up a thumbs-up from the ground. Yup. They were definitely Shiba.

"Stop being weird," said Ichigo flatly. "She's just a friend."

"He is now in a big friends group that has three girls, including me," said Yoruichi slyly, playful. She grinned when Ichigo glared at her.

"Wow, Ichi-nii, getting in with the girls," said Karin, nodding and smirking.

"I always knew you could do it, Onii-chan!" said Yuzu with stars in her eyes.

Ichigo sighed. "Thanks," he said wearily, apparently finally deciding to just go along with it.

"Well, since she's getting to know you, why don't I show her the hospital? Come with me, beautiful Yoruichi!"

As Isshin dragged Yoruichi out of the room, Ichigo called after them in panic, "Wait, Dad! Yoruichi, sorry! If he tries anything weird, punch him!"

Isshin found them a private place in the tiny white sterile hospital and slammed Yoruichi up against a wall. "What the hell are you doing here?" he said in a deadly voice, becoming a serious former Captain again.

"Wow, taking advantage of an innocent high school girl -!" Yoruichi began, grinning.

"Cut the shit, Yoruichi," said Isshin flatly. "What's going on? Are all his new friends members of Urahara's gang?"

"No, relax. It's just me," she said, rolling her eyes. "I'm the only one infiltrating. And let go of me. It's not like I'm running away."

Isshin cautiously let her go, never taking his eyes off her.

"Look, you can't hide him forever, Isshin. Reiatsu comes off that boy in waves. We think Aizen might be making a move against him in about five and a half months, and believe it or not, I'm actually trying to _help_ and make sure the kid's emotionally ready."

"And you're telling me this has nothing to do with the fact that none of you got to know those kids?" said Isshin skeptically.

"Alright… we are curious. And I do want to help on a more personal level," Yoruichi admitted. "But I promise. Nothing about Shinigami or Hollows. Nothing abnormal. No secrets revealed. I'm just going to be a friend. Okay?"

"... I'd still like to have gotten a little heads up," said Isshin. "But okay." He sighed and ran a hand through his short black hair. "The way I am right now, it's not like I can stop you," he admitted wearily.

Yoruichi actually felt kind of sorry for him. He couldn't protect his kids the way a noble Captains should, his powers over death had been sealed, and his wife had passed. Isshin didn't exactly have it easy.

"Okay," she said. "Let's go back. Put that act back on."

They walked back out into the family room to Isshin's three kids. "Wow, that was amazing," said Yoruichi enthusiastically, smiling uncomfortably.

"I showed her all the fascinating details of the MRI machines!" said Isshin with dorky, over-enthusiastic eagerness.

"Great," said Ichigo quickly. "We're going up to my room now." He started to drag Yoruichi toward the staircase.

"Your boyish testosterone and hormones are definitely thriving!" Isshin called after them. Yoruichi smirked.

"Damnit, Dad!" said Ichigo, his face as red as a tomato. "Shut up!" They got to his bedroom, which had a fifteen pendant hung on the outside; they went in and he slammed the door shut.

The room was… bare. A bed, a desk, a few end tables, a closet, a window, and not much else. Eerily neat and clean. Yoruichi walked around curiously, looking in the open closet. Lots of tight, punk-like tees and jeans. It had potential, but the kid could use a wardrobe update. It didn't even look like anyone lived in his room.

"Sorry about him," Ichigo sighed, setting down his book-bag on his desk chair. "I told you, my family's weird. Please tell me you at least got something you could use?"

"I did," said Yoruichi, smiling. "I'm learning a lot. Hey… what about your Mom?" she added curiously.

Everything about Ichigo, including his expression, completely froze.

"I'm sorry," said Yoruichi, genuinely uneasy and sympathetic. "I saw the memorial. I just… if I'm going to learn about you, I had to ask. You know?"

"She died," said Ichigo shortly, turning away so his back was to Yoruichi. Door firmly closed.

"... How?" Yoruichi asked cautiously, her voice softer. "I'm guessing it wasn't good."

"... I don't think you can put this in your report," said Ichigo quietly. She still couldn't see his face. "But I killed her."

"I highly doubt that," said Yoruichi reasonably. "You'd be in juvenile detention."

Ichigo turned to her furiously. "This conversation is over," he said fiercely, and he moved past her. "Yuzu's making dinner; you can stay if you'd like." He brushed past her. Yoruichi was left standing there, feeling… oddly cold.

But she now had her first two points of focus. Kurosaki Ichigo was definitely a work in progress, but family and home came first. So she had two things to work on: his connection to his father's work, and his mother.

* * *

Back at home that night at the Shouten, she admitted slowly to Urahara, "... Technically my job is done."

Everyone in the Shouten looked up. "... Technically?" Urahara questioned.

"His reiatsu's incredible. It's only a matter of time before Plus souls start coming to him. They might have already. It might just be a matter of time before I finally see him with one of them. If he already helps Pluses… that could be a factor in a lot of things."

"Great!" said Urahara, pleased. Then he frowned. "So what's the problem?"

"The problem, Kisuke…" said Yoruichi uneasily, "... is that reiatsu might be the only thing Kurosaki Ichigo _doesn't_ need help with."

"Don't tell me you're coming to care for the boy," said Urahara, smirking, sharp-eyed.

"Bullshit," said Yoruichi. "This is exactly what you wanted."

"Correct!" He held up his usual fan brightly. Yoruichi glared. "Alright, alright…" he said, relenting. "You can keep on with whatever it is you're doing. I don't need to know and you don't have to tell me anything. I trust you. But I am assigning you his personal character growth. Do what you feel you have to do.

"It's important not only for maturity in fighting and everything else to come, but also because personal growth leads to spiritual growth and reiatsu and zanpakuto changes. We need him at full capacity."

"So. She'll be making him a better Shinigami?" the little pigtailed girl, Ururu, asked.

"I'll be making him a better functioning human being," Yoruichi corrected her. "Trust me. He needs that _before_ all the bullshit hits him."

She held her goals in sight. Her first matters were dealing with Ichigo's relationship to his father's hospital and mortician business - not even to his potential future, but just to the business itself; let's make it small, manageable pieces - and to his relationship with his late mother.

Tomorrow, whether Ichigo liked it or not, she got started. And she had a feeling he _wouldn't_ like it, so she'd better be ready.

* * *

Yoruichi followed Ichigo on his walk to school the next morning, both of them in uniforms. "Can we talk about yesterday?" she asked insistently.

"No," said Ichigo shortly, his brow furrowed in annoyance.

"You said -"

"Forget I said anything. I was being stupid," Ichigo muttered, not looking at her.

"No. You were being honest." Yoruichi whirled him around to look at her. "And that's not stupid."

"Forget it. Now I get to research you," he said, and continued the walk to school. _Damn_ if he wasn't bull-headed. Yoruichi ran to catch up.

"No. I said I needed to make some headway," she said. "And I haven't done that until I get _you_ feeling better about things concerning your family."

Ichigo whirled around to look at her incredulously. "You're not going to rest until I talk to you about what happened to my _Mom_?"

"I want to talk about your Mom. I want to talk about how you feel about death, religion, and other more credulous subjects like that. And I want to talk about your relationship with your father's business," said Yoruichi insistently.

"My father's -?! What are you, my therapist?!" Ichigo said, staring at her. "And I can tell you right now - I don't believe in any of it!"

"I'm your therapist if that's what you need me to be," said Yoruichi calmly. "And that's a non-answer, which is why you need me."

"Look - no offense, Yoruichi, I know you always want to help people with their lives - but we just met yesterday. Butt out. And if you keep on like this, we won't get anywhere with the project."

"We will if you cooperate. We have four months. I'm not giving up," said Yoruichi, folding her arms. "I'm just going to keep bothering you until I help."

"I still don't see what this has to do with the _project_ ," Ichigo growled, his teeth gritted.

"Most of it will never go in the project. I'm no snitch," said Yoruichi. "But come on, Ichigo. I'm supposed to learn about you? I have to at least know how she died. You can't expect me to learn about you but, for one thing, completely gloss over how your mother passed away. I mean… that's kind of a big event in a person's life. Especially if they were under eighteen.

"I'm not giving up," she finished.

"... Then I hope you enjoy disappointment," he said bitterly at last. He turned around and stormed toward school down the city street, Yoruichi followed insistently behind him.

"Tell me."

"No."

"Fine. I'm asking you every hour, on the hour. And I don't care how much of a bitch you think I am. Because you need to talk to someone about this, and I don't believe in sparing anybody's feelings."

"Lovely," said Ichigo darkly.


	3. Letting Go

_Chapter Three: Letting Go_

"Tell me."

"No."

"Tell me."

"No."

After the third iteration of this on the third hour, all of their school friends by now looked amused and puzzled. "What exactly are you no-ing, Ichigo?" Tatsuki had to ask.

Ichigo had been in an increasingly bad mood. "She wants to know about Mom," he said flatly. None of their other friends seemed to know what this meant, but Tatsuki paused and her eyes widened.

"You," she said, her eyes flashing, grabbing Yoruichi's arm as everyone left the classroom for morning break, "come with me. You two as well."

They left a silent, dark, and sour Ichigo in his seat and left the classroom behind a storming Tatsuki. She was the only one who seemed to know what was going on. They found a corner of a courtyard surrounded by lockers outside, in the chilly morning air, and Tatsuki whirled around to face the three of them - to glare at a surprised Yoruichi in particular.

"What is your problem?" Tatsuki demanded.

"What is _my_ problem?" said Yoruichi disbelievingly. "I'm trying to help; what is _your_ problem -?"

"I get that you're trying to help," said Tatsuki, as if trying to hold onto a small sliver of patience. "But this is _not_ the way to do it."

"All I did was ask him how his Mom died. It's not supposed to be a hugely secret piece of information," said Yoruichi, irritated. "What _did_ happen to Ichigo's mother? Why does he only live with his father and sisters?"

"Look… it's not my place to say," Tatsuki sighed. "It's one of those stories that you don't just tell for someone else. But let me tell you my side of the story. Because he was nine, and I'd already been his friend for five years when it happened.

"You probably can't even picture Ichigo as a little kid. He was this total wimpy, big-hearted dork. Quirky and odd, bright and curious, a total nerd, always grinning. But more than anything, do you know what made him smile biggest? His Mom. He was a total mama's boy.

"Really. I always used to beat him in karate fights, because he wasn't very strong, and whenever I beat him he would start crying. It was super annoying. He was the guy; wasn't it supposed to be the other way around? But then his Mom would come in. And he'd look around. All his tears would dry. This _huge_ smile would come onto his face, and he'd run into her arms. He didn't even care who was looking.

"The day after everyone heard she'd died, when we were nine, he didn't go to school. He didn't go to karate, either. So I went looking for him. He was at the riverbank where everyone heard she'd died… pretty brutally. He'd been there all day. And he did that for days. He told his Dad he was walking to school, and then he walked to the riverbank, and he stayed there all day. He wandered up and down the bank, looking lost, silent - not even crying. He squatted down when he was tired and then wandered some more. I'd watch him.

"It was like he was… waiting for something. Waiting for her."

He was hoping she'd become a Plus, Yoruichi realized sympathetically. And she was going to hazard a wild-ass guess that Masaki never became one.

"He completely changed after that," Tatsuki finished, trying to smile. "It was… terrible to watch, actually. He stopped crying. He started winning fights. But he was never the same. He was all… dark and stoical and closed-up and tough. Like you're seeing now.

"And he's been that way ever since."

That explained a lot. Ichigo was still stuck in the place he'd been when his Mom died. He was a story on pause.

"So… don't you get it, you can't just… pester him about that. Like it's not a big deal. Because it is a big deal," said Tatsuki with effort, pained.

Yoruichi frowned. "... Yeah," she said seriously. "I get that. I'll apologize."

Chad and Orihime looked very sad, quiet. It was plain neither of them had known any of this about Ichigo.

"I'd do anything," Orihime whispered as they went back to class, "to give his mother back to him."

"Yeah," said Chad quietly, looking down.

"Me too," Yoruichi realized, and what really got her was that she couldn't. It was one of the only things no Shinigami could do.

She sat down next to Ichigo as their class filtered back into the classroom.

"I suppose you got my whole life story," he said darkly.

"... Tatsuki only told us her side of things. She didn't say what happened to your Mom, and she didn't say what your Mom was like," said Yoruichi. "I'm sorry. I'll stop picking. I'll… think of some other way to fill in that part of your life instead."

Ichigo relaxed, looking tired. "Thanks," he said softly.

* * *

"What the hell happened to Masaki?"

Urahara looked up from the spreadsheets detailing the accounts of his shop and sighed. He was sitting in the front entryway, up on a platform, though it was night and the store was closed. Yoruichi stood there, hands on her hips, scowling.

"I was wondering when you'd get to that," said Urahara.

"So? The lady never became a Plus even though her kid stuck to her like glue. That's enough to make anyone stay behind, especially a Quincy remnant. What the hell happened to Masaki?"

"Remember, she was a Quincy remnant with sealed powers," said Urahara softly. "Like Isshin with the Shinigami."

"What the hell does that have to do with anythi -?"

"She was killed by the Hollow Grand Fisher."

Yoruichi's eyes widened.

"Ichigo doesn't know," said Urahara. "But he ran into the Hollow's lure on that riverbank. He thought he was saving a girl from jumping into the river and drowning herself. All he knows is that his Mom still had enough presence to scream and run after him. She jumped on top of him and used her body as a shield. When he woke up, his mother was dead and bloody on top of him. The girl was gone and, unbeknownst to him, so was the Hollow.

"The worst part?" Urahara smiled grimly to Yoruichi's horrified face. "Grand Fisher is still at large. Masaki's soul is still inside him."

"How the hell am I supposed to get him through this if I'm not allowed to tell him it was a Hollow?" said Yoruichi incredulously.

"Get creative," said Urahara with a humorless smirk.

* * *

"I think I've figured out a way around the Mom issue," said Yoruichi on the walk to school the next morning. She was more cautious this time.

"Great," said Ichigo flatly. "And that is?"

"Well, your Mom wasn't defined by how she died. How about… I come to your place after school, and you tell me what she was like in life? You know, some memories you have of her. Fond memories."

Ichigo paused completely on the sidewalk. "Yeah," he realized, brown eyes widening slightly. "That… actually might work."

Yoruichi smiled. "See?" she said. "I'm not always pushy. Sometimes I have good ideas."

"Running off of the minimal information I have, we'll see," said Ichigo, and she realized he was actually smiling and making a joke.

"Hey!" she said, play-shoving him. "I'm being nice!"

They went to school that day, and their friends were surprised to find them perfectly cheerful again. "What's up, guys?" said Yoruichi as she and Ichigo, now full of cheer, sat down in their midst.

"She's found a solution," said Ichigo dryly at their stares. "After school at my place, I'm telling her good memories instead."

"That… sounds wonderful," said Orihime warmly. "A good answer. I know I always prefer to talk about happy things in front of my brother's shrine."

"Yeah… and after I lost my abuelo in Mexico… I mean, I always prefer my good memories of him, too," Chad admitted.

"See?" said Tatsuki, smiling warmly. "We get it."

"... Thanks, Tatsuki," said Ichigo, and in his own muted way, they could tell he meant it. Tatsuki gave a friendly two fingered salute.

They had a pleasant lunch together, and that afternoon after school, Yoruichi walked home with Ichigo and they entered through the back door again. "SHE IS BACK! I KNEW YOU COULD DO IT, MY SON ICHIGO!" Isshin thundered from his hospital office with the door open connected to the family room.

"Oi," said Ichigo, irritated. "We're still not dating."

"Yeah, I'm _way_ above his level," said Yoruichi.

"Hey!" said Ichigo, offended.

"What? I was offering support in defense of your argument," said Yoruichi with mock innocence.

"Nice to see you again, Yoruichi," Yuzu smiled from where she was vacuuming the rug. She was the mother substitute, it seemed.

"Hey, kiddo," said Yoruichi, winking and ruffling her hair on the way by.

"Just so you know, Ichigo, her going up to your room again looks very suspicious," said Karin from the table where she was doing homework, smirking.

"You're as bad as Dad," said Ichigo as he entered the stairs.

"Hey! I am nothing like Goat-Chin!" Karin shouted heatedly, as Isshin cackled knowingly from his office.

"I have infected them!"

"AAHH!"

Thundering could suddenly be heard below.

"Should we go back and help?" Yoruichi suggested.

"Nah," said Ichigo. "Leave them to fend for themselves."

And so they entered his room again. He took the bed, and Yoruichi took the desk chair with a notebook and a pencil. "I am making notes on your oh-so-fascinating life," she said, though in private she knew she was doing it mostly for show. "So… go ahead. Happy memories of your Mom."

"Okay. Well…" He sat back, sighed, and began. "She always smelled really relaxing. Like lavender perfume. I don't know if that's the kind of thing you should put in a school report… or anything… but that's the first thing to come to mind. Lavender perfume… and rainfall. Because it was raining on the riverbank the day she died. There were all these weeping willow trees… and it was dark and shady… and she smelled like lavender. So I always get all these memories whenever I experience any of those things.

"She, uh, she was really pretty. She had these wavy cinnamon-colored curls, and she always wore this really nice makeup even though she didn't need it. She used hand lotion, so when she took care of you, when you were sick, her hands were always really soft. And she wore sweaters, and skirts, and little chain necklaces - really classy, you know?

"She was a good Mom. She was a nurse for Dad, and a homemaker, and she tried so hard for us. To make our early memories safe and happy ones, full of nurture and love. She was a great cook. She loved singing along to the radio while she was doing stuff around the house - just sort of softly, to herself.

"She always smiled and pretended she was happy, even when she wasn't. She had this great sense of humor - she was really good at dealing with my Dad and how spazzy he's always been, and she had this calm, joking, playful sense of humor. She could pull him down off a big show of energy with a teasing, sarcastic, laughing little remark. She was smart, which helped, super smart. And he was… God, he was besotted by her. He never said it. You could just… tell. Dad told me once that he used to be a flirt, but I never saw it. For as long as I've known him, his entire life has always been either During Masaki or After Masaki.

"She was really tough, too. Forward. But she was never in your face about it. She never judged anyone else by their strength, and she was really understated in how she showed her own. Mom was a rock. That was all. She never actually judged anyone, really. I think people liked that. She pulled people in.

"She pulled us in. She was our whole solar system. She was our sun, and everything in the house revolved around her. So when she was gone… it was… it was tough." He swallowed, his voice gruff and his eyes distant, misty. He wasn't even in his bedroom anymore. "No one knew what to do. The sun we'd all revolved around… it was gone.

"And… you don't get it, Yoruichi, I took that from them. I saw that girl I thought was about to jump into the river… I ran across the street full of cars to try to save her… because I'm an idiot. I thought I was some big fucking hero. I'm _not._

"And… and Mom ran across the street after me. She was hit by a car instead of me. Her body pushed me out of the way…" Now he was choked up. "And saved mine. I woke up… and I turned around on the bank… and her eyes were just staring into mine. Blank, you know? She was just lying there. _Dead_. And I was covered in her blood. And I shoved her away from me, and my nails got under her skin, and I got to my feet covered in mud and blood, and I threw up.

"And then I just started screaming. I don't even know what I was screaming. I kept screaming her name, apologizing to her, begging her to come back. People who'd stopped had to pull me away. I got hysterical. I _really_ started screaming. In the ambulance they had to sedate me. That's the last thing I remember from that day. The ambulance, and the doors closing, and her body and the riverbank starting to fall away…

"And… and no one was angry at me. That was the part that got me. That was worst. Because I'd done that. I'd taken her from them. If it weren't for me, she'd still be alive. And it just would have been so much easier… if _someone_ … my Dad, my toddler sisters… had gotten angry at with me. Had screamed at me. Had hated me. I mean - I hated me!

"But no one else did. Everyone just… forgave me. And it was sickening because - because I didn't deserve to be forgiven."

"... Have you ever apologized to them? Talked to them about it? Talked to your mother's memory about it?" Yoruichi asked softly.

"... No." Ichigo shook his head slowly. "In the end…" And he'd withdrawn into himself darkly. "In the end I guess I'm just chicken-shit."

"Do you know which car hit her?" Yoruichi asked. "Was… was anyone arrested?"

"No. That was the weird thing. There were no dents in any cars." He swallowed. "She didn't even look like she'd been hit by a car. It was like… like a huge animal had ripped claw marks into her back. And she was dead. I never saw her again."

"... Ichigo, can I share something with you? There's only one rule. There is a reason I transferred cities and homes. I have a dangerous past I'm trying to escape, and you… can't know how I know this," said Yoruichi slowly.

"... Okay," he said at last, frowning.

"You're not going to like it," she warned him.

"Okay."

"I… I've seen this pattern before… and I don't think your mother was hit by a car."

Ichigo's eyes widened.

"I think someone or something killed her… but it wasn't you."

Ichigo straightened. "How -?!"

"Remember the rule," Yoruichi warned him, pointing.

"You can't seriously expect me not to ask!" said Ichigo furiously, disbelieving.

"You can ask. And I can't answer. It's… physically dangerous for me, Ichigo," said Yoruichi, frowning and looking away, holding her arms around herself. "You're just… going to have to trust me. There are some things about my past you might not ever know.

"But I think your mother's death might have been premeditated. I'm pretty sure your family's no longer in danger, but you… didn't kill your mother."

Ichigo paused - relaxed. And then his eyes widened and his whole body relaxed. He clutched at his chest, breathing deeply. He sat there, his eyes a bit watery and red, for a long time.

"... You really think so?" he whispered at last.

Yoruichi looked over at him sadly. "Yeah. I do," she said meaningfully, and he looked up. "It wouldn't have been your fault anyway. You did something reckless… so don't be so reckless. But your intentions… they weren't bad. Murder implies intention. You didn't murder your mother because you didn't intend her death.

"Even had it been a car accident, it still wouldn't have been your fault."

Ichigo swallowed and looked down.

"You were just a dumb kid, Ichigo," said Yoruichi gently, exasperated. "Everyone's a dumb kid at some point. But I stand by what I said. I think someone was trying to lure you in."

"Why?" Ichigo looked up. "And why did they stop with my Mom? ... It's one of the things you can't tell me," he realized, seeing her reserved expression. He took a deep breath and nodded, ran a hand over his face and stared unseeingly at the closet as if it held all the answers to life's big questions.

"Tatsuki told me," said Yoruichi at last, "that you used to be a radically different person. That you changed after your Mom died. I think it's because of guilt. I think you've had this hanging over your head for a long time and you've let it define you."

Ichigo frowned. "I… don't like that," he realized. "But… I don't know who I am… without anger, and guilt, and… heaviness, I don't know. I sound super angsty and whiny, don't I?" he said in disgust.

Yoruichi suppressed a smile. "Only a little bit."

They looked at each other and laughed softly.

"Thanks, Yoruichi," said Ichigo, "for butting in."

"No problem. I can help you figure out who you are without the guilt, Ichigo," said Yoruichi. "But… you have to really get past this first."

"What do you mean?" said Ichigo slowly.

"I want you to somehow say something you would say to your Mom. As if looking her in the eye. I know it sounds cheesy, but I think it would help. You could visit her grave, but you don't have to. You could write a letter and keep it locked in a desk drawer. Fuck, I don't care. I don't even have to see it.

"But you should say something to her, Ichigo. Stop wallowing in self-pity and calling yourself chicken-shit. Actually tell her something.

"And… what you told me, about wanting your family to hate you? This is the part you're going to dislike most.

"You're going to have to talk to your family."

* * *

 _Ichigo_

Ichigo decided on the letter, not the graveside conversation. At first he hated himself for taking what he saw as the easy way out, but then he heard Yoruichi in his head get exasperated and start yelling at him. Some of the self-hate went away and he smiled a little, wryly, to himself.

In her own pushy, tough-love way, Yoruichi actually was a good friend.

At least he was doing something, he decided, so that night after Yoruichi left, he sat at the desk in his room, took out a blank sheet of paper and a pen… and stared at the sheet of paper. Twiddling the pen. Nerves, writer's block, and confused fear all mixed up inside him. Now that the moment was here, he was terrified.

Ichigo tried to imagine his mother's face, talking to her… but in his head she always looked angry and turned away, and he always felt cold in his heart and a lump in his throat. Something climbed half-clung up Ichigo's throat, words…

Fuck it, he decided, and he just started writing. Freeform, flow of thought.

 _Mom, please don't turn away. Please wait. I'm sorry._

 _I'm sorry._

 _Just hear me out._

 _Look, I… I know you're angry with me. You're probably angry with me. I know why you didn't stick around. I know why. I took you away from your husband and daughters, your family. You're angry with me. I'm sorry. I was an idiot. I know it's probably not my fault, or not entirely, but I'm still sorry._

 _But, look - shouldn't you have wanted to stay for your husband and daughters? Why didn't you? Karin and Yuzu can See. You didn't have to look at me… or even talk to me… in order to say goodbye to them. I mean… it would have hurt, but I'd have understood. I'd have gotten it._

 _But you didn't stay. You left. I guess you didn't have enough to stick around for._

 _… Maybe it's not fair of me to get angry with you._

 _You know, it's weird. All these years I've been trying so hard not to cry. I was always such a total wimp as a kid - not a guy at all. And I thought - finally, after this - I could stop crying. Be a man, you know? But… I'm tired of not crying. I'm tired of pretending not to feel guilty. I'm tired of missing you._

 _I wish you were here. Everything would have made more sense if you were here. But if you were here, there wouldn't be a problem. But you're not. And now… I don't even know who to blame anymore._

 _I have all this anger, but no place to put it._

 _So I'll just say: I fucking hate that you're gone. That you're never going to see me grow up. It makes me want to punch people, and scream, and throw things, and do lots of things that I really can't. I hate even more that I know Dad misses you. And I hate even more that when you died, Karin and Yuzu had just entered preschool._

 _That's all the time you got with them. That's all the time they got with you. I got more time than them._

 _And I guess that's what I hate the most. That you loved life - and you loved people - and everyone loved you. And you're the one that died. What kind of sick fuck up there in the universe decided that? What sick, twisted fuck on a cosmic level could have prevented that from happening, and they didn't?_

 _It's why I don't believe in anything. Fuck that noise._

 _Because it doesn't make any sense! It doesn't make any sense for someone to look at this beautiful, perfect, stupendous woman who has two toddler kids and her entire life going for her and loving family and lots of friends. And for them to then look at her nerdy, fuckup, wimpy son who can't even win a karate match against the only girl in his class, who can't stand up to any of the bullies who pick on him, who clings to her skirts all the time with his snotty, runny little nose, who does nothing of value and probably never will._

 _And it makes no fucking sense for them to decide to take out the Mom!_

 _So there it is. The guilt. Then the anger at you. Then the anger at the world, at cosmic forces. And now it's all gone. And I'm just… numb. I don't know where to go from here. I don't know what to say. I wish you were here to help me figure out what to do._

 _But you're not. You haven't been for a long time. I'm not that snot-nosed kid anymore. I don't really know who I am._

 _And I've got to start facing up to things and figuring things out for myself._

 _So I guess I'll just end by telling you… I'm sorry. I don't know if you'll ever forgive me, but I am. And I forgive you… for not sticking around. And… I don't know about the universe. Maybe I'm right. Maybe there's nothing there. Maybe life just isn't fair._

 _Maybe you aren't there either. Maybe… maybe you're not angry, because as much as it hurts, you're not there. Maybe you remember dying and that's it._

 _And that fucking sucks. But there's nothing I can do about it._

 _So if you are still listening… I guess I no longer need you to. Pay attention to Karin and Yuzu, to Dad. Maybe they need it. But I'm signing off. I'll always love you._

 _But it's time to move past that._

Ichigo put the pen back down, his hand shaking. He put the letter in a desk drawer and shut the drawer, just as Yoruichi had recommended. The desk was blank, as if the letter and its contents had never been. But everything was different.

Ichigo sat back, let out a deep sigh, took deep breaths, his hand over his eyes in the desk chair. It took him a minute or two to realize he was crying - damn near silently, but crying. It took him even longer to realize he hadn't really cried since that day at the riverbank.

He felt empty at the end, relieved, exhausted, tired. Spent, but not in a bad way. All these awful emotions he had forgotten were inside him… they were gone. It felt like the past six years had been a very long day, and it had ended, and now he was tired.

He remembered the distant scream of his name coming just before his mother's death in his head. Pulled it to the forefront. But… it didn't have the same weight that it used to. If anything, there was fear, that something else had done that and it… wasn't him. Protective feelings toward Yoruichi, and whatever shady past she was innocently running from.

His mind had moved on.

He cleaned himself up in the bathroom slowly, with shaking hands. Then he went down to the kitchen table mechanically, listened to his family bicker and laugh and argue with one another as if from a great distance, silently…

"Hey, Ichigo. You okay?" Ichigo looked up to find everyone staring at him. Their faces ran from nonplussed to outright concerned.

Well he couldn't let them worry. That would just bring guilt back again, and he was currently trying to _avoid_ guilt. He screwed up his courage. Now was as good a time as any.

"Dad, why weren't you angry with me after Mom passed away?"

A cold, terrified, ringing silence followed the words.

"And…" Ichigo looked down. "And I know this topic always upsets everybody, especially Yuzu, and I should probably just let it go. But… I want to know. I was angry with me… and I want to know why everyone else pretended not to be."

He looked up hesitantly.

A pause. Then Karin scoffed. "I wasn't angry at you," she said contemptuously. "What the hell did you do? Contrary to your belief, the world does not actually revolve around you, Ichi-nii. I am kind of pissed off that you're obviously still obsessed over thinking it does, though."

Ichigo blinked in surprise.

"Yeah, I… I wasn't angry at you either," said Yuzu, soft and uncertain. "I guess I just figured… you didn't mean to do anything, and you had enough on your plate."

The feeling that filled him was forgiveness. What followed forgiveness was gratitude - gratefulness over a gift that he didn't deserve and he had anyway. Ichigo took a deep breath and sat back, studiously staring at the floor and trying hard not to get cry.

Maybe the universe wasn't always a complete horror-show after all.

"If I'd gotten angry with you, Ichigo, Masaki would have gotten really angry with me," said Isshin, surprised. Ichigo looked up. "I mean, think about it. She gave her life to protect you. If she'd resented having to do it, she wouldn't have done it. She wasn't that kind of person.

"I'm not angry. I fell in love, got married, and had children with a beautiful woman who gave her life for her kid. And we had lots of good times together. I'm really lucky. You're even more lucky, though. You're the kid she willingly gave up her life for. Good luck living up to that legacy.

"And eat your vegetables."

Isshin went back to his food.

"... What?" he said through a mouthful of food when he found all three of his kids staring at him. "Look, tragedy can seem romantic, but you're all too young to pull it off."

Ichigo gave a half-laugh and smiled. Yuzu was crying, but it was the happy kind of crying. Karin admitted, "This may be the one and only time I will ever say this, Dad, but you can actually be kind of cool."

Instead of getting joking and freaking her out, their Dad smiled. "Yeah. Masaki only told me I was kind of cool once, too. She used almost those exact same words. I was smoking a cigarette outside, leaning against a wall. I remember it because I'm pretty sure it's the only time she ever paid me a direct compliment. It was in college. I wasn't sure what the hell I'd done right accidentally, after all that trying on purpose, but it felt pretty great.

"It took me a long time, but I realized I'd finally met someone whose compliments made me feel like I was on the top of the world." He smiled reminiscently. "Try to find someone like that. Get old. Die after me. That's all I ask."

"... You don't care whether or not I become a doctor?" said Ichigo, surprised, remembering the other big part he had thought Yoruichi had wanted to talk about.

"Nah, I don't give a shit. Actually, if you're still living in my house twenty years from now, I might murder you," said Dad conversationally. "As a matter of fact, become anything else on the face of the planet except a doctor. Good luck figuring that out."

Ichigo came to the unexpected realization that his Dad was awesome and the rest of dinner was eaten in a surprisingly peaceful silence.


	4. A Sense of Wonder

_Yoruichi_

Ichigo filled Yoruichi in on the basics during his walk to school the next morning. By now it was Thursday of their first week. "You seem… surprisingly excited," she admitted, smiling. "Not in a bad way. But excited."

"I am, I mean - I don't know where to go from here!" he said, talking to her as he walked backwards toward school. "I don't know who I am and I have the rest of my life to figure that out. I don't know who I am, I don't know… what my future will look like."

"Okay, well, let's break this into little, concrete things," said Yoruichi. "Political beliefs might be a little harder… we'll save those for another time. Same with relationships. I mean… that's messy. But you can figure out what you decide religiously. You can decide what you want to do as a career. Two very concrete steps. Religion and an avenue of study.

"It's a start, right?"

Ichigo made a face. "I don't know what I want to do… And I don't know if I believe in anything. I think I'm pretty much anti-everything, at this point."

"Well." Yoruichi smiled. "Why don't we ask our friends for their help?"

They sat down amidst their group in class before school started, and Yoruichi said dramatically, "Ichigo has made a breakthrough. He has realized he has no idea who he is or what he wants to do with his life. He is anti-everything."

Ichigo sighed and gave Yoruichi a flat glare. "Thanks," he said with half-hearted sarcasm. She beamed.

"Join the club and welcome to high school. Glad to have you here," said Tatsuki flatly, continuing on with her schoolwork.

"So that's… normal?" said Ichigo uncertainly.

"Well of course!" said Orihime.

"Yeah, I don't even know what I'm going to have for dinner tonight," Chad admitted, shrugging. "Fuck anything else."

"Dad says I can't be a doctor or he'll lose his shit," Ichigo admitted. "That was kind of my fall-back plan."

Chad chuckled and Tatsuki smirked.

"Well, let's think about this in big terms," said Orihime kindly, trying to be helpful.

"Okay…" said Ichigo slowly, frowning.

"Do you want to do something that uses more your body or your mind?"

"Well… I mean, obviously I'm a fighter," said Ichigo slowly.

Tatsuki snorted. "Good luck making money from that. I've looked into it," she said. "She's talking about labor-type working-class jobs, Ichigo."

"Oh. Well… I think I'd get bored," Ichigo admitted. "I mean, it doesn't exactly sound… interesting."

"So more toward the mind. That probably means college," said Orihime. "So we're narrowing it down. Now, are you thinking more… ethical or intellectual?" she said slowly.

"Well… I want to help people, but I don't know how good at it I'd be," Ichigo admitted.

"Oh, for fuck's sake," said Yoruichi. "Quick, off the top of your head: lawyer corporate businessman or social worker therapist?"

"Social worker therapist," said Ichigo automatically.

"There you go!" Yoruichi pointed off into space sarcastically. "Ethical it is!"

Tatsuki snickered. "You're cool, Shihouin."

"Thank you," said Yoruichi as she got her homework together.

"So college-based, mind-challenging, and ethical," said Orihime neatly. "That actually tells you a lot. It tells you that you want further study, intellectual stimulation, which makes sense as your grades actually seem to be quite good."

"Yeah, Yoruichi has been emphasizing a little less reckless and hot-headed, a little smarter," Ichigo admitted.

"That makes a stunning amount of sense," Tatsuki told him bluntly. "You're not a dick, Ichigo. Stop pretending to be. I realize you're more comfortable acting like a dick. But stop it. Nobody's exactly asking you to save the universe here."

"Right…" said Ichigo slowly. "And… I want a more ethical job."

"Yes. Ethics are important to you, which is good," said Orihime. "Now." She held back a smile. "Doctor is off the table. But there are other kinds of medicine: psychiatry and psychology, for example. There's also sociology and cultural anthropology. So let's put the social sciences in one category. Let's put academics and teaching in another. Let's put religion and grief counseling in another. And let's make the arts your fourth. Police-work as a fifth."

"No religion," said Ichigo immediately. "And I don't want to become a teacher or a policeman."

"That leaves the arts and the social sciences," said Orihime. There was a pause. "But if you can't decide…" she added slowly. "Why not both?"

"Both?" Ichigo frowned.

"There are people who work in therapy and counseling places, things like that, or sometimes places that require social working. They help people work through what's happening to them through the arts," said Orihime.

"You could decide what arts you like best when we get to your interests and hobbies," said Yoruichi helpfully.

"Except it totally doesn't sound like his thing," said Tatsuki.

"No, I actually like it," said Ichigo slowly. Tatsuki paused in surprise.

"It suits you," Chad decided. "You're always into saving people, Ichigo, but you can't always do it by beating people up. And you're more creative than most people give you credit for. I've seen it."

"So there you go! Decision made!" Orihime beamed. "You want to be someone in the field who specializes in therapy and social working and helps people work out their personal issues through artistic therapy. I added that 'in the field' part for you because you're definitely an action, on-the-ground kind of guy."

"That's… weirdly specific," said Ichigo. "And… oddly fitting."

"It's a good system," said Orihime smoothly, turning back to her schoolwork. She was becoming more confident around Ichigo, a definite positive.

"And it means you get to channel your inner quiet, intellectual artist," said Tatsuki, nodding. "Which is hot." She gave him a thumbs up as he raised an exasperated eyebrow. "Come on, it's a nice middle between Ichigo Before and Ichigo After. And your sarcasm would actually work in your favor here. You could just be… calmer, about it."

"True," he admitted.

He didn't seem quite as angry and short-tempered as he used to be, Yoruichi decided. Supportive family and friends probably helped.

"But art isn't what we're focusing on right now," said Yoruichi. "What we have right now is beliefs. So during break, I say we tackle those."

"You know, you guys… don't have to do all this for me," said Ichigo uncertainly, looking around himself.

"Ichigo, we're your friends," said Tatsuki. "Shut up."

"Agreed," said Chad matter of factly.

"Traitor," Ichigo muttered, and Chad did not look remotely apologetic.

At break in a corner of the courtyard, they continued as though they had never been interrupted. "Quick answer, top of your head," said Tatsuki, pointing at Ichigo. "Do you believe in God?"

"No."

"Do you believe in souls?"

"Yes."

"Cool!" Tatsuki raised her fists in triumph.

"It is?" said Ichigo.

"Yeah. You wouldn't believe how much that rules out. Oh, one more question. Do you believe in everyone having a set place in society?"

"No, people can change. I think that's bullshit," said Ichigo, blinking.

"Great! Guess what?" said Tatsuki. "You are not: a Christian, a Hindu, a Jew, a Muslim, and you don't believe in Confucianism or Shinto. Also you're not an agnostic or an atheist."

"That leaves Buddhism," said Yoruichi helpfully, which was positive as that was just about right.

"How… how does that work?" said Ichigo at last, bewildered.

"You know what you believe - so you're not an agnostic. Atheists don't believe in anything, so if you believe in souls you're not an atheist. If you don't believe in a God of any kind, that rules out no less than five major religions. If you don't believe in everyone having a set place in society, you're not Confucian.

"Only Buddhism fits all three of your qualifications."

"... Shit," said Chad, as everyone stared, impressed, at a triumphant Tatsuki.

"Okay. I… I mean, I know what Buddhism believes, obviously. It's huge in Japanese society. And I guess… it doesn't go against what I believe."

"Think about your mother in Buddhist terms. Does it explain things? Does it help?" said Yoruichi helpfully.

Ichigo seemed to think for a minute, his mind obviously working. "... Yeah," he realized, and it was as if this huge further weight had been lifted off his shoulders. "Yeah, it does. It helps… with a lot of things, actually."

"Then that is the point of religion," said Yoruichi, or so she could gather from her time with humans.

"So there you go," said Tatsuki. "Quiet, sarcastic Buddhist intellectual artist who wants to be in the therapeutic field helping people on the outs."

"I just… always thought of myself as this really angry skeptic," Ichigo admitted.

"But we've already established that you've decided to stop being so angry and reckless and thoughtless, and that there are some things you both do and don't believe in. You just said so," said Chad. "You don't have to disbelieve in everything. You're allowed to believe in some things."

"I already told you to stop taking such pride out of being such a dick," said Tatsuki, hands on her hips.

"We could introduce him to astrology! Maybe it could help him with the whole… figuring himself out thing?" Orihime suggested, shrugging.

"No! None of that!" Ichigo crossed his arms in a hex in front of himself.

"Ichigo doesn't like people who say they can talk to ghosts, ergo, he believes in absolutely nothing that has to do with fortune-telling of any kind whatsoever," said Tatsuki flatly to the bewildered group. "This somehow makes total sense in his head."

Yoruichi smiled. "Ichigo… you don't actually know anything about the stars, though. I mean… maybe you've seen death. Metaphorically speaking," she added quickly. "But do you somehow have cosmic knowledge of the stars?"

"... No…" Ichigo admitted reluctantly, with his arms still in the hex.

"They're different subjects, Ichigo," Chad told him with quiet disbelief, raising his eyebrows frankly.

Maybe it was Chad, of all people, saying something that made Ichigo relax his arms. "Fine," he sighed wearily, again making a visible effort to calm himself down. "You can show me during lunch. But I don't have to believe in anything you tell me."

* * *

They all sat in their by-now-usual circle at lunchtime and Orihime got out what she called "her big book of astrology."

"I call it that, too," said Tatsuki, grinning teasingly. "Only when I say it, it's more fun."

"Shut up," said Orihime as she opened the book. It was big, tattered, and careworn, obviously loved, a purple book with huge blue font on the cover. Its ancient, astrological painting decorating the front obviously did not fill Ichigo with confidence.

"Okay," said Orihime. "Let's put in your birth information on the charts and focus on your three big signs."

"There's more than one?" Ichigo asked uneasily.

"Yes. The three work in conjunction with each other. And each sign is in a different placement and means different things depending on where they are. That's how we're all so unique," said Orihime. "Look, I'll explain in a minute, just - birth information."

"Come on, man," said Chad in exasperation when Ichigo paused. "She's not signing your soul to the devil. It's just a thing we're doing at lunchtime."

"This is getting ridiculous," said Tatsuki flatly.

Ichigo sighed. "Okay," he said. And he gave his birth information.

"... Wow, no wonder you're so intense," said Orihime in surprise. "Cancer Sun, Scorpio Moon, Aries Rising."

Tatsuki whistled. "Damn," she said slowly.

"Wait, what is that supposed to mean?" said Ichigo, both exasperated and bewildered.

"Well, Cancer is also my Sun Sign, but I'm on the cusp of Leo. So I'm really two signs. We're a little different," said Tatsuki. "Still. I know astrology from Orihime, so I can explain Cancer to you.

"The Sun Sign represents the core of your personality and desires. It's your center. Cancer Sun people have a really stoical facade, sometimes a biting or sarcastic one. But this is because we feel things really strongly. My Leo works in here - my tough face includes a lot more bright sunniness than yours does. But we both have one.

"We're both deeply emotional people, even sensitive? Not in the feminine sense, but just in the sense of… we feel everything really keenly. We like emotional security, we're very attached to family and home, we can be surprisingly nurturing, we care a lot about love and protection… and we can sometimes get jealous or insecure kind of easily, just because we form such deep bonds in the first place.

"We also tend to care a lot about traditions - even if it's just family traditions, or something personal like that - you know, we can be kind of sentimental. And we're often blessed with particularly vivid imaginations, and on that level I actually can see you as an artist. First and foremost, though - family, home, and security are all really important to us. We're very emotional, intuitive sorts of people. Cancer tells you to trust your intuitions and your instincts, especially about people, and that your job is to care for and protect those people. You use your tough guy routine to hide the fact that you care so much.

"Lucky you, Cancers also naturally give off this really incredible, silent yet natural sexuality and chemistry. Now, your Moon is in Scorpio, so with you that's particularly pronounced." Tatsuki was grinning.

"Great," Ichigo muttered, reddening.

"Ahem. Yes, well." Orihime was also blushing. "So, the Moon represents our emotional backing. Your Sun tells you what you need, your Moon tells you what you want, and your Rising Sign tells you how you go about getting your needs and your wants.

"So, Scorpio is a deeply emotional sign. It feels things very strongly. You're very loyal, very perceptive, and you can be very intense. You have deep staying power, stubbornness and strength of will, and also deep mood swings. Scorpios are infamous for being jealous, so watch out for that, between these two signs. Security is important, on a lesser scale, to emotional Scorpio as well. And yes, Scorpios are known for being very sexual people with lots of chemistry.

"Scorpio Moons have a strong need for privacy. This is to protect their deeply felt emotions. But those emotions, raw and vulnerable, also give them an ability to help bring truth to light. If Cancer Suns are true protectors, Scorpio Moons are true for enacting enormous change. You have that gift with people. Scorpio Moons can have trouble getting in touch with themselves and letting themselves be emotional, because they're trying to protect their feelings, but that raw vulnerability and emotion combined with a sort of quiet sense and protective instincts could help make you really, really strong.

"On a more personal level, Scorpio Moons need to set aside time for introspection in their lives, quiet alone time. And though you have a strong need for privacy, you have also have a strong need for emotional intimacy - different from physical. In other words, you have an ability that's rare to open up and be really intense yourself, and this can open up other people to you and they might be more honest with you than they would be with other people. This is part of what makes you so loyal and perceptive.

"Finally, we have how you go about interacting with the world - your front, or your Rising Sign - and here we have Aries Rising.

"Aries Rising people are intense, too, which is why your chart is so incredible. But Aries is different - it's good for being straightforward, direct, honest, and aboveboard about absolutely everything. That's the face you present, how you channel what you experience. Aries Rising people are courageous, strong, and self assertive. They take action, they make quick and determined decisions, they initiate things. They can be idealistic. They're open, even sometimes funny, which combined with your other signs is where your dry and incisive and perceptive sense of humor could come from. They do well under pressure, better than most people. Stubbornness and strength of will again characterizes this sign.

"In other words, you have all this but - you're not an extrovert, exactly, but you're just really aggressive and courageous and idealistic about what you're experiencing and feeling and perceiving and you're spewing it all the time."

"Which sounds like you," said Tatsuki helpfully, smirking, and Ichigo glared. "Also, Aries Rising people are full of lots of dynamic energy and stamina and adventurousness, you love a challenge, which together with your other two signs makes you a dynamo in bed." She winked and made the OK sign.

"Goddamnit, Tatsuki! Is anything off-limits for you?!" Ichigo finally lost his shit.

"That is a very astrologically accurate answer," said Tatsuki, and they all started laughing - eventually, even Ichigo, through his exasperation.

"I… I guess… none of that sounds untrue," Ichigo admitted, uncertain.

"You don't have to be a total skeptic in matters you don't understand, you know, Ichigo," said Yoruichi, smiling in good-natured exasperation. "Keep a little wonder in life, will you? Your stars might not have to decide your fate, in a fortune-telling fashion, but they could decide in part what kind of person you are and who you really click with," Yoruichi finished. "Yeah?"

"... Maybe," Ichigo admitted. "Maybe. I'll give you that one."

He wanted to wonder again. She could see it in him. That was a start. He was curious again.

* * *

"So, do I go to your home now?" Ichigo asked. "See what your home is like?"

"Not quite yet," said Yoruichi. "We have one more thing to do first."

"Are you determined to totally revolutionize my life?" Ichigo asked, dryly amused and not resentful the way he might have been more. He was rather curious and good-natured about the whole thing by this point.

"Yes," said Yoruichi, pointing at him, walking backwards. "I want you to ask to help out with your father's work."

"But - if I'm not going to do it for a living -" said Ichigo slowly.

"Karin and Yuzu aren't planning on becoming doctors, nurses, hospice workers, or morticians, I'm assuming. Not both of them, surely," said Yoruichi.

"That's… true…" said Ichigo slowly.

"But they still help out. Because they grew up in that place, so they know how it works. It's a basic life and family experience, Ichigo.

"You're a good fighter. But you don't think you're good at being gentle, or healing, or nurturing, or compassionate. I'm here to prove you wrong. True, simple compassion is an important thing for each person individually to know they have. I'm here to show you that it is possible to both fight and heal - and furthermore, that in your own quiet but meaningful way, you personally can do both."

"Despite being a guy?" Ichigo confirmed.

"Yes," said Yoruichi. "Despite being a guy. You up for it?"

Ichigo paused. "Apparently," he said, looking over, dryly humorous, "I'm good with challenges. Alright, why not? Let's try it."

Yes. Definitely more curious.

Tomorrow, the day Ichigo asked Isshin if he could help, would be Friday of their first week.


	5. Surprisingly At Peace

_Chapter Five: Surprisingly At Peace_

 _Ichigo_

"... Dad… can I help work in your hospital?"

Ichigo winced and said the whole thing rather gruffly, staring at the ground, hands in his pockets. It was after school on Friday and he was standing in the entryway between family room and hospital. The other three - Karin and Yuzu in nurse's uniforms, Isshin in doctor's uniform - turned to look at him in surprise.

Ichigo knew his father would be embarrassing. He was right.

"SON OF MINE, YOU HAVE FINALLY DECIDED TO CONNECT MORE DEEPLY WITH YOUR FATHER!" Isshin threw his arms in the air and then put his hands on Ichigo's shoulders. "... But no," he said matter of factly, and he walked off.

"Hey! Why not?!" Ichigo turned to look at him indignantly.

"Oh, you were serious?" His Dad turned to look at him in surprise. "I thought you were just being polite."

"Yes," said Ichigo, trying to hold onto his patience. "I was serious."

"I already told you, I don't want you to become a doctor." Isshin frowned.

"I'm not going to! But, well, I want to focus on art therapy. So knowing how to be in a medical environment might help me. Besides, Karin and Yuzu help you. Isn't it just, like, a family thing?"

"You'd be no good," said his father bluntly, nonplussed.

"Well… not at first… but couldn't I… learn?" Ichigo's face was very red by this point.

"Come on, Dad, give him a chance," Yuzu pleaded.

"Yeah, stop treating him like he's defective," Karin said, crossing her arms.

Isshin pretended to visibly hold back emotion. "MY CHILDREN, STANDING UP FOR ONE ANOTHER! ALRIGHT, MY SON, COME INTO THE FOLD AND -!"

"If you hug me," said Ichigo, "I will kill you. This is already awkward enough."

"Then why are you doing it?" Karin asked curiously as the four of them entered the cool, sterile, white main hallway of the tiny hospital together.

"Yoruichi is trying to show me I can do more than beat people up. She's convinced this is a family experience and I need a wider repertoire of skills," said Ichigo.

"She's changing a lot for you, isn't she?" Karin asked curiously. "Is that where the whole… Mom conversation came from?"

"Yeah," Ichigo admitted. "She and my other high school friends are convinced I'm a Buddhist. They've gotten me into astrology. They have such an iron-solid image of me that I think I've actually been starting to believe in it myself."

"Wow. I didn't think anyone could make you believe in something besides what you can see and the cold, hard hand of science," said Karin, impressed. "High school changes everyone, I guess."

"So, art therapy?" said Yuzu curiously.

"Yeah. Supposedly there are therapists and social workers out in the field, 'on the ground' who help real-time people on the outs with their troubles through these kinds of artistic therapy," said Ichigo.

"So it's sort of like the way you help ghosts find peace," interpreted Yuzu.

"Well… yeah, I guess," said Ichigo thoughtfully.

"Wow!" There were stars in Yuzu's eyes. "That's so cool!"

"Yeah, actually, it is, Ichi-nii," said Karin, sounding surprised.

Ichigo gave a slight smile.

"Alright! Enough chit-chat!" Isshin turned to them and clapped his hands, serious, and they all stood to attention. "Ichigo needs to get on a male nurse's uniform. He'll be helping Karin and Yuzu with nursing duties for today. But first, he needs to learn how to keep himself clean and sterilized, and he'll need latex gloves.

"Karin and Yuzu, can you show him the ropes?"

"Yes, sir!"

"The day after that will be your first day in our hospice. The day after that will be your first day as a Japanese-style mortician - in other words, as an assistant to me. Every day after school. Got it?" Isshin eyed Ichigo somewhat suspiciously. "You'll have two weeks of trial and learning. Then, if you prove teachable, you'll start doing shifts regularly like your sisters."

"You'll be fine," said Yuzu helpfully. "And it will be good to have an extra worker around here."

"Do try to be tougher on him," said Dad, moving past them. When he wasn't looking, Karin rolled her eyes.

Ichigo got dressed in the male nurse's uniform in the tiny provided bathroom. He straightened the uniform and looked in the mirror, frowning, pulling at the neckline. He'd been half afraid they'd give him a nurse's skirt, but this was just a loose male outfit in light blue.

It still felt strange. Thinking of himself as a nurse. Gender roles were weird, he was starting to realize.

He walked out into the hospital to Karin and Yuzu and took a deep breath. "I'm ready," he said, determined.

He ended up shadowing them on his first day, doing what they asked him to practice doing. The Kurosaki Clinic was laid out into three sections. The regular hospital was one side of the long hallway, the permanent care ward on the other, both of them long rows of white hospital beds with curtains. In a vast room in the back was the hall where Isshin performed ritualistic mortician's ceremonies in front of collected friends and family. It had an erected platform where the ritual was performed, and tatami matting down on the floor where people knelt and watched in rows. The other back room was his Dad's office.

Every area dealt with potential death. Not for the first time, Ichigo wondered if that was why he could see ghosts.

On his first day, he mostly watched what Karin and Yuzu did, gaining an increasing amount of respect for the work they performed. They took vitals and set casts, swabbed wounds and offered advice on illness and comforted waiting people. They were always steady emotionally, gentle but firm in their movements, and they always knew just what to do and say to make everything better. There was definitely an art and a science to it; healing was not easy.

Two moments defined his first day.

In the first, Karin asked Ichigo to help her set a cast. She told him what to do, helping him with her fingers, as he slowly and painstakingly set the cast and wrapped it up with gauze. His hands were shaking slightly and his breath came short and he tried to be careful, so careful, do exactly what Karin said.

"See?" said his sisters, smiling, at the end. "You did it."

He had done it - and without hurting anyone. A slow, awed smile filled his features.

The other moment was a bit more harrowing.

A woman was sitting outside the hospital main hall in a spindly little waiting chair by the door, rocking and weeping. Her husband had been in a car accident and was inside in a bed, being tended to by Isshin. Karin turned to Ichigo. "Go comfort her," she said bluntly.

"Me - how - what do I -?" He'd started to say, What do I say? But then he'd looked at Karin's face and realized that was kind of the point. He took a deep breath, and slowly walked over to the woman, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Ma'am?"

She sniffled and looked up from her handkerchief. She was a plump woman with a bun of hair and watery brown eyes, looked almost fifty.

He couldn't tell her that her husband would be totally okay, because it would have been a false promise - he didn't know that for sure. Instead, he said quietly, "The doctor assured me before he went in that your husband is out of the woods. Whatever's going on, it's not life threatening. It doesn't even require surgery. And… well, we can deal with anything except that, can't we? Everything else can be improved upon."

The woman's sniffles lessened and she smiled trembling. "True," she admitted. "It - it could be worse." He hadn't been sure how the words were going to come out, but they seemed to have had an effect.

"You'll be able to see your husband in a little while," said Ichigo. "He's been very lucky. Until then, would you like me to get you a glass of water?"

"Oh - yes - thank you." Ichigo brought back a tiny paper cup of water from the water jug on a far table and some tissues. The woman smiled, good-natured but a little embarrassed, and seemed very grateful.

Both experiences felt… oddly good. He was better at this than he thought he'd be. The fact that he was usually a tough guy didn't seem to interfere with anything at all.

The next day was a weekend, and he spent all weekend working at his Dad's place. Saturday he worked hospice, Sunday he worked mortician with his Dad.

Saturday was… difficult. Karin and Yuzu took him into the hospice ward and gave him very specific instructions on a little piece of paper as to what to do at what time for each patient. Give them their medicine, for example, or change their bedpans.

"Mostly, though," said Karin, "just talk to them. Play games with them. Keep them from leaving the ward - nonviolently, obviously."

"Right," said Ichigo nervously. It was hard concentrating. This ward was constructed the same as the one across the hall, but it felt totally different. It was still and silent and heavy and defeated, most occupants in beds quietly focused on the TV playing in the corner of the room, and it carried the smell Ichigo would come to know as death.

This was where the inevitably dying patients were placed. The most they could do was prolong lifespan. No amount of fighting and no amount of healing could save these people. Ichigo was just as helpless as the rest.

Ichigo learned the physical aspects - how to gently coax someone into taking their medicine even though privately he wasn't sure what good it did. How to gently change a person's bedpan, the disgusting gentleness of cleaning up after a very old person with their wrinkled backside vulnerable to you. He learned how to keep the man with senile dementia from wandering out of the ward by talking gently over his inane ramblings, talking calmly and leading him gently back to his bed.

But many other patients were more lucid. He talked to a woman with cancer about her family and her kids. He played games of Go with a sharp old woman with an incredibly lucid mind. He changed the TV channel when they wanted him to.

And over time, he finally started to see the point of hospice. These people's lives were precious; every single terrible moment they had was a sort of gift.

At the end of his shift, he sat down against the wall outside the ward and breathed hard for a while, arms on his knees. He felt gentle, quiet, sad, and strangely like he wanted to cry again.

Yuzu sat down next to him. "You okay?" she asked.

Ichigo took a deep breath and nodded.

"Dad and Karin always say that it's one thing to fight on behalf of a ghost or a living person. It's totally different to take care of a dying person and know you can do nothing to save them."

Then, finally, came the end of the line for any person - the mortician's death ritual.

The person involved had become a ghost, which made it harder, because Ichigo could see them standing weeping in a corner of the room even as he saw their body in front of him. It added more meaning to the peaceful ritual that was the final thing their body would go through. His Dad dressed him in a nice black suit, dressed in one himself, and Ichigo knelt silently off to the side of the platform. Everyone filed in and knelt on the tatami, somberly in black, and the whole room, silently weeping ghost included, watched his father work on the body kneeling on the top center of the platform.

The body was covered with a blanket and treated very gently, Isshin only doing various expert things in parts from underneath the cloth in sure, graceful movements. Silently and respectfully, an almost holy hush in the room, with ritualistic movements, he dressed the young woman's body in a white robe, cleaned it with damp clothes, put pieces of cotton in each orifice. He did up the young woman's makeup, laid her hands just so, this all in preparation for the coffin she would be cremated in, the entire thing set ablaze.

This should have made the ritual in a way meaningless, but somehow it didn't. The ritual itself, the respect and care involved, felt very cleansing, both for the living and for the dead. Everything was finally prepared just so, and both the dead and the living could move on. Ichigo watched with increasing awe, a gentle and almost healing light filling him, as his Dad softly, gently, silently, and respectfully did each ritualistic movement until she was totally ready. Then he bowed from where he was knelt, and several people stood and carefully placed the body in the coffin in preparation for cremation.

Ichigo and his father sat on the front steps of the hospital in total silence for a while after the ceremony was over. Dad seemed contemplative, at peace, not in a hurry to talk.

"The feeling in the room - it's pretty intense, isn't it?" he said at last, smiling. "Back when I first started, I always used to need a smoke after a difficult ceremony. Not that I'm recommending that or anything. I mean… I've had stressful jobs, but nothing beats a family placing the corpse of their much-beloved member and their fate totally in your hands.

"It has at least as much meaning as someone placing their life in your hands. I can tell you that as a doctor, for one thing. Some people find working with dead bodies unclean - I think it's one of the most important things a person can do for any family."

* * *

For the next two weeks, it was like that. Ichigo would go to school, do his schoolwork, have lunch and breaks with his friends, chat like a normal teenager - then he would immediately hurry home every afternoon to work in the clinic. Even Yoruichi seemed content to leave Ichigo be for a while and let him learn.

He alternated between nursing, hospice, and mortician's work. Slowly, he was allowed to do more as a nurse, got better at talking calmly to people as he worked with gentle and sure fingers at whatever he needed to check and whatever ailed them. Talking to families never got easy, but he learned how to be compassionate and realistic and work through that.

He even got used to keeping clean, wearing his gloves, wearing his uniform. And he got better at spotting what various ailments and injuries looked like.

In hospice, he got better at talking people back into their beds and into taking their meds, yet again being gentle, and at changing people's bedpans with surety. He even learned how to feed people who had trouble keeping food down and holding utensils, an incredibly intimate and mostly silent practice. It was scary, realizing a person was completely in your hands.

More than that, he got better at talking with the people in hospice, or playing games with them.

He helped with his first mortician's ceremony a week and a half after starting. His Dad had told him what to do, so he patiently and quietly did the assisting movements assigned to him as his father did the main part. This person hadn't become a ghost - in true Buddhist tradition, some of them didn't and passed on into the afterlife without trouble - but he still took special care, looking tenderly and sympathetically down at the dead person with their eyes closed and their face chalky pale lying in front of him.

It felt healing for him to finish the ceremony, just as healing as it was for everyone else involved.

More than all this, he learned to his surprise that Yoruichi had been right. He was capable of being gentle, or healing, or compassionate, when he wanted to be. Nursing compassion was quiet and sure, and in its own way it required a great deal of bravery and inner strength. It was… different, when you were the one doing the work.

It was weird, for society to say that work only applied to women - for society to imply it was somehow lesser or more feminine and that was why women worked in it. For the first time, he started to internally question some of the things society said about sex and gender. Nursing in general, dealing with the dying, was one of the most mentally and emotionally taxing things he had ever had to do, and some days it was hard doing it at all.

* * *

Ooshima came back to school during that two-week period.

He got all up in Ichigo's face the day he got back, practically pinning him up against a wall on his way out to the courtyard for morning break. His breath reeked. "You better watch your back, Kurosaki. I got it out for you and your stupid little friends," he growled.

Orihime looked worried, Tatsuki like she was ready for a good fight, Chad like he was ready for anything, and Yoruichi as always looked fundamentally unimpressed.

"Leave them alone. Unless you get off on picking on people who haven't fucked you over that aren't widely known as good street fighters? Is that it?" Ichigo challenged. "You get off on hitting people you see as weaker than you?"

"Watch your fucking mouth." Ooshima shoved him, and Ichigo almost lost his shit and punched him right then and there. He was pretty fucking sure he could take Ooshima, too.

"Ooshima. Let it go." Ochi-sensei was there. She pushed Ooshima away by the elbow. "Come on, boys, break it up. Move on. Move on."

Ichigo had come to respect Ochi as his favorite teacher. Tough, easy-going, and perpetually exasperated, she was one of the only teachers he could think of who truly knew how to handle teenagers.

"That lid's eventually gonna blow," Chad warned him after Ochi had left.

Ichigo looked after Ooshima. "... Yeah," he admitted. "Well fuck him. I'm ready."

"Be careful, Ichigo," said Orihime, concerned.

"Yeah," said Tatsuki, having a totally different thread in mind, "if you get your ass kicked by that loser, I think you deserve the beating you're going to get."

"Relax, guys. Ichigo will have far bigger threats to worry about in his lifetime than Ooshima. He can handle himself," said Yoruichi smoothly, walking past, as always somewhat of an enigma, hard to predict and hard to read.

Ichigo was working in the clinic one evening, taking care of a woman who'd come in with a broken nose.

"I slammed into a door," she half laughed in admittance, sitting on the hospital bed while he worked. "I'm so stupid, I -"

But Ichigo had paused, looking inscrutably down at a big bruise on her arm, half covered by her sleeve. "Ma'am, could you hold this cloth to your nose for just a second? Apply gentle pressure. Can I take a look at that?"

And as she began stuttering nervously, he slid her sleeve up to reveal bruises all along her arm.

"... Did the door do that, too?" he asked quietly, as she suddenly became silent.

He looked in her face. She wouldn't meet his eye.

"You know," he said, "I've taken karate." She looked up. "So I'm a fighter as well as a healer. And I can tell you that putting up with a beating when you know you can fight back is brave. But putting up with a beating when you know you can't fight back is even braver.

"But see, the thing they teach you in fighting classes is, never get yourself involved in beatings if you don't have to. If you can, they teach you to get yourself out."

He was winging it. He'd decided not to mention street fighting as it might not exactly be comforting coming from a nurse. Otherwise, he actually had no idea what to do with an abused woman.

Tears had filled the woman's eyes. "He loves me," she managed through her bloody nose. "He needs me."

Maybe Orihime had been right about Ichigo's ability to open people up.

"I bet he does," said Ichigo. "But you have to come first sometimes in your life. It's your life. And in this case, you do have to come first, because he could really hurt you bad."

The woman looked down.

"Now, you can call the police yourself," Ichigo began. "Or, I'm sorry, I'm legally required to do it. But I want to leave the option open for you to call yourself. Because I think it should be your independent decision, if you can manage it."

And so she made the call. He sat and waited with her as she called, as she waited sadly, as the police came and took her away for her own protection.

"I have to get my kids," she told the police.

"Oh, don't worry, ma'am," said the policeman seriously as she got in the car. "We're getting your kids."

The most horrible part? She was a member of a minority, and a woman. One of the easiest kinds of prey imaginable in closed-door Japan.

Ichigo wasn't going to do it, but some people really fucking deserved to die.

* * *

His first hospice death once more blessedly involved no ghosts. Surprising everyone including Ichigo, it was the ghost of the sharp-minded old woman he'd played Go with. She was the first to leave, when she'd seemed the strongest of them all. He walked into hospice one morning and found her cold and unmoving, eyes closed. He checked her pulse and felt his heart stop, felt himself nearly choke.

She'd died in her sleep, passed on to the afterlife peacefully for reincarnation, and left nothing except her heart behind with her family.

Death didn't discriminate.

It was hard, losing someone he'd cared so intimately for. Very hard. And he had to tell the family. That was his job.

They came into the waiting entryway, and what struck him was how resigned they were. How ready, and solemn, and clear-eyed.

"I'm sorry," he said. "She passed. It was peaceful, in her sleep."

Because he wasn't going to offer bullshit. He wasn't going to talk about how she'd fought, or how she'd led a good final life. Who would choose to live in hospice? So he kept it simple, and offered the only honest comfort he could, and tried to seem as compassionate as possible.

As they all filed out, he did say after them, "Hey. Her heart is still with you. I believe that."

Her adult daughter looked back and smiled sadly. Then they all entered out into the sunshine, the glass hospital door closing behind them - at least for now. There were preparations still to be made.

Ichigo was left feeling very small. He had realized that he couldn't save everyone, but he had also realized that not everyone needed to be saved.

* * *

His first terrible mortician's ceremony was actually terrible before the ceremony started.

Ichigo and his Dad were preparing on the platform in their suits when they paused, hearing a horrible argument coming from the echoing corridor outside where the family was waiting.

"I'm not going in there!" A woman's voice. "He committed suicide! It's a disgrace!"

"He was your son!" A man's voice.

The corpse of the young, black-haired man below them was twenty-three. He looked innocent and silent and peaceful, lying there, as if not knowing the argument that was going on beyond him. As if his troubles of this life had passed.

Ichigo felt hot anger build inside him and he stepped furiously toward the door where the argument was still raging furiously, family members yelling horrible things at each other -

He wanted to tell them to stop saying such things to each other on such a day. He wanted to tell them to come in here for their son who had died so tragically. He wanted to tell them to shut the hell up.

But his father put a hand on his shoulder. Ichigo looked back. His Dad silently shook his head.

Don't act on your anger. Not this time, his father said without words.

And so Ichigo had to push down his anger. He had to remain calm. He had to peacefully take care of the boy's corpse in front of an only partially there family, because the guy deserved at least that.

No matter how he felt, anger wasn't always useful - anymore than recklessness was.

He stood outside the room silently for a long time after that one.

* * *

One night, the abused woman came back into the clinic. Ichigo was ending his nursing shift that evening. He looked up from where he was preparing a freshly-empty bed in the regular ward, and he paused in surprise.

She was standing there, smiling this time, healthy, with her two kids.

"We have an apartment," she said. "He's been arrested. And - well - I just wanted to thank you. For what you said. About being brave but putting myself first. It meant a lot."

Ichigo looked down, and smiled a little. "Sometimes it's useful, I guess," he said, "having a fighter for a healer."

"Yeah. I guess it is," she mused. "Have a nice night." And talking brightly to her two kids, one hand in each of hers, the three left the hospital together in the cool evening air. Ichigo walked outside after them, and just stood there. The sky was a deep blackish-blue.

Everything had been seeming more distinct lately, somehow. Clearer. At school as well as here. He wouldn't trade his recent changes - not for anything.

His Dad had followed him out. "You know," he said, leaning against the doorway, "I didn't know what to expect, but you've been doing well. Helping people. Better than I think either of us gave you credit for."

"... It doesn't feel like I'm doing enough," Ichigo admitted. "Like I'm good enough."

"It never does," Isshin admitted, and Ichigo turned to stare at him in surprise. "Kid, you have to stop thinking in terms of 'enough.' We just do the best we can each day. That's what we do. And you… I'm starting you on regular shifts. Okay? You passed muster.

"Come in when you're ready."

He left Ichigo standing out there lost in thought. Ichigo stood like that for a while - then smiled a little, and went back inside.

He was… surprisingly at peace.


End file.
